Walt Disney's The Hunger Games
by DarkKnightThespian101
Summary: Characters from classic Disney films are forced to fight to the death in the 36th Annual Hunger Games.
1. The Reaping: Part 1

**A/N: Well, here it is! My very first fanfiction! I'm absolutely brand-spanking new to this site, so we'll see how well this does. I do hope you all enjoy it, but I also want complete honesty in your reviews. Thanks for stopping by, and Happy Hunger Games!**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. I'm merely a fan writing this down for fun.**

_District 11_

As Pocahontas lay in bed, a horrible feeling swept over her. It was a combination of fear and anxiety. It was both false hope that today would end up a dream, and despair at the events that would soon occur. She prayed to whatever God may be out there to grant her strength, for she knew what day it was. This was a most horrid day for all, one from which nothing good could possibly come. This was the day of the reaping.

Thankfully, she was soon met with a warmer presence that always managed to make her feel somewhat better. Meeko, the sweet little raccoon that lived in her home, climbed up on her bed and cuddled next to her. Pocahontas had met the little angel one day when she was hunting with her childhood friend, Nakoma. So charmed had she been by this creature that she had to bring him home with her, and Meeko was soon a beloved member of her family. It almost seemed as if Meeko knew what today was, for his affection this morning was far more gentle and cautious, and less hyper and excitable than usual. That was one of the many things Pocahontas loved about the raccoon. Not only was he adorable and loving, he was also surprisingly intelligent and considerate for such an animal.

After a few moments of silently petting her furry friend, she heard her bedroom door open. It was her father, Powhatan. His tall, muscular, and intimidating build stood in great contrast with the kind and peace-loving man that possessed it. He greeted his daughter with a warm smile, although the grim look in his eyes told her how he truly felt. Pocahontas completely understood why her father was in such a foul mood. After all, this was not exactly the day to be dancing around and singing about rainbows and unicorns. Still, she appreciated his half-hearted attempt to look at peace.

"Good morning, my child." Powhatan walked in his daughter's direction and gently sat himself on her bed, caressing her hair with one hand and placing Meeko on his lap with the other. Pocahontas didn't even bother lifting her head up, it was far too early and she was far too tired. "If only it were, Father." At her reply, Powhatan let out a soft sigh. He wanted so very badly to assure her that everything would be okay, like any good father should, but he couldn't lie. Besides, he knew his daughter all too well; she was not going to believe such an obvious attempt at false reassurance. Nonetheless, he opted to begin a conversation anyway. "Pocahontas, there are countless other girls your age in this district. You needn't worry all too much."

"Even so, they could easily select one of my dear friends. And even if I don't know them, my heart cannot help but break for those forced to participate in such a monstrous game." Powhatan's heart sank at his daughter's words, for her knew they were all too true. She went on, "Why does this game exist, Father? Why does the Capitol punish us in this way? What sort of monster came up with such a despicable idea, to torment us and have us murder one another for their entertainment?" As Pocahontas spoke, the look in her eyes gradually changed. Before, they were terrified and sorrowful. Now, they were filled with passion and anger.

"The people of the Capitol are cruel," Powhatan replied. "They hold past conflicts against us and use their power toy with us however they please. They are monsters, Pocahontas. They all have hearts of stone and take pleasure in tormenting those who are weaker than them. There are no exceptions among them, my dear. All of them are the same; every last one of them." Pocahontas had a hard time arguing with her father. It was true that the Capitol was an evil society. All of their families taught disgusting things to their children and raised them to be hateful monsters. "If only I had the ability to change them; to help them see the error of their ways," she said. Her father smiled at this, and bent down to kiss her trembling forehead. He gave her a wonderful suggestion in the most peaceful-sounding voice he could manage, "Why don't you go for a walk? You were always so in tune with Mother Nature, perhaps a morning stroll in the woods is just what you need."

With nary a word, the girl nodded. He was right; she was truly one with nature at heart. Being outside among the trees and the animals gave her such peace, as if all the problems with the world would simply vanish for a moment. The young Indian woman sat up and pulled herself out of bed, gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek and affectionately tickled the top of Meeko's head. As she silently made her way out of her house, she wondered how the rest Panem was up to today. Were they just as miserable as she was today? Were they even awake? What if some poor mother was comforting her terrified child right now? Pocahontas knew it had no effect on her, but her love for humanity still drove her to think these things. What could the other districts be up to now…?

_District 2_

It was nearing the middle of the day, and all that much closer to the big moment. Fa Mulan stood at the gate leading just outside her village, gazing at the horizon and pondering to herself. She had been training her whole life for this day. Today, she would enter the Hunger Games. Her entire district knew it. Both she and Li Shang were expected to enter this year. If someone besides them were selected, they would simply volunteer. It was already decided from the beginning that this would be Mulan and Shang's year to bring honor to District 2. At first, Mulan felt certain that she could do it without a problem. However, as soon as the actual day of the reaping struck, she felt a little more nervous. Now, as the hour of the reaping came closer and closer, Mulan felt less sure of just how well she could cope with murdering twenty-three other people.

Nonetheless, she had trained for years for this day. She was going to volunteer and fight in the Hunger Games, and she was certainly not going to dishonor her family. If she were to back out now, Mushu would never let her hear the end of it. Ugh, she could hear it now; "Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!" Her friend, Mushu, absolutely loved to refer to her horse as a "cow" for absolutely no other reason than to annoy her. And annoy her it did. Thus, Mulan decided to use the nagging sound of Mushu claiming dishonor on her "cow" in her head as motivation to willingly volunteer. That way, that she would never have to actually hear those obnoxious words uttered to her face. And so, she waited…

_District 5_

At long last, the clock stroke one. The moment everyone across the twelve districts had been dreading. Hercules and Megara had spent the entire morning together, preferring not to speak of the reaping. Now, everyone headed to the town square. After all, attendance was mandatory unless one was on death's door. To be completely honest, Hercules probably would have rather been dead than have to constantly worry for his loved ones. Last year, two of his dearest friends were selected for the games, and neither of them made it. That was what truly opened his eyes to the horrific, downright evil nature of the Hunger Games.

"Come on, Wonder Boy. You're not getting antsy now, are you?" Hercules looked to his left side, locking eyes with the beautiful young woman who spoke those words. Megara was clearly every bit as terrified as he was, but she was also much better at hiding it than him. While Hercules was never one to hide his feelings or keep them bottled up, Megara hid behind a barrier of sarcasm and cockiness. Granted, she was always sarcastic by nature, but she seemed to increase the number of quips when she was feeling vulnerable in any way. Hercules knew her all too well, so he saw past her smug exterior in a heartbeat. "Meg, you're not exactly leaping with excitement yourself," he replied. Megara kept her sly smile, but he was right. She was scared out of her wits, just like everyone else. She simply knew how to hide it better than her boyfriend.

Megara knew Hercules was scared more for his peers than himself. That's just the way he was. He could always be found helping others around the district however he could, but the reaping was the one time of the year in which he felt absolutely helpless. He felt powerless to do anything on this day, for all he could do was stand and watch his peers be taken to the Capitol to certain death. He had often spoken of volunteering for his fellow man, but Megara and his family would never allow it. Meg could see just how he was feeling today, and it made her heart sink. She hated seeing him like this. Every other day, Hercules could be seen with a big, bright smile on his face and doing something helpful for the townsfolk. On this day, he looked as if he would break down any minute. Megara guessed that if anything, he was probably praying to be picked as tribute this year. After all, that was really all he could do today. But she wasn't going to let him volunteer. Oh no, anything but that.

_District 4_

"It's too bad they hold the reaping at the square," whispered Ariel to her sweetheart Eric, as their group filed in silently to sign in. "This area is really the nicest place in our district. The Capitol always has to ruin everything!" As she said this, Ariel seemingly lost consideration for the volume of her voice. A cautious Eric was quick to remind her of their surroundings.

"Shh… I agree, but you might not want to let anyone hear you say that; not unless you want to end up in prison." At this, Ariel quietly huffed. Nonetheless, she spoke a bit more softly. "I'm not afraid of them. Someone needs to give them a taste of their own medicine!" Eric chuckled a little when she said this. She was right, after all. Of all the places to hold the reaping, it was truly a shame it had to be in such an otherwise pleasant area as the square. Still, he did not wish for her little statement to be heard. He never was particularly fond of unnecessary conflict. Ariel, on the other hand, was hot-headed and stubborn. She couldn't care less what the higher-ups had to say to her. Admittedly, that was one of the several things Eric loved about her.

Their conversation had to be put to a halt when all the twelve- through eighteen-year-olds began to be herded into roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in the front and the youngest in the back. Since Eric was seventeen and Ariel was sixteen, this meant they had to be separated for the time being. Family members lined up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one another's hands. Eric could see Ariel's father, whom everyone called Trident, standing along with Ariel's six sisters; Attina, Aquata, Alana, Arista, Andrina, and Adella. Just like the rest of the families, all of them were clutching onto each other for dear life, praying for the baby of their family not to be picked. Ariel, being the youngest, was the only one who still had to endure this awful process. It was a miracle that none of Trident's daughters had been selected until now, but there were still two more reapings for Ariel.

As he gave his girlfriend's family a sad smile, Eric found himself standing in a tight clump of seventeens. Unfortunately, the square was far too small for their district's large population, so all the groups had to huddle together very tightly. It was quite uncomfortable. Despite Eric's attempts at giving his peers hopeful smiles, they all simply gazed back at him with grim, soulless looks in their eyes. Not that Eric didn't understand why, this was a dreadful day for everyone. At this time, most of the teenagers had been so mentally warped with fear that they simply ran out of energy. There was nary a soul who was in an even remotely positive mood. Still, Eric saw no reason not to make an attempt at cheering someone up, even if it would be in vain.

At this moment, everyone focused their attention on the temporary stage set up before them. Sitting on it were three chairs, a microphone, a large table, and two glass balls, each contained all the children's names. One was for the boys, the other for the girls. Two very important figures sat on the chairs. One was the elderly Mayor Merlin. The other was Ursula, District 4's rather plumb escort, with her disgusting lavender skin, short white hair that seemed to strongly disagree with gravity, and sinister smile.

Eventually, Merlin stepped up to the microphone with a large scroll and began to read. One could tell he did not take pleasure in reading the same story every year, for it seemingly served no other purpose than to remind everyone just how awful the district citizens supposedly are. It was the story of Panem, the country that was once called North America. In this story, Merlin was required to list in great detail every last disaster that destroyed North America and the ensuing war, all of which resulted in the shining Capitol called Panem, ringed by thirteen unique districts where the less privileged men and women resided. Then the districts, being the horrible and ungrateful little poor folk they obviously were, opted to start a great rebellion against the Capitol which ended in twelve of the districts defeated and the thirteenth utterly destroyed. As punishment to the less privileged, the Treaty of Treason was formed and once a year, the Hunger Games would take place simply for the Capitol's amusement.

Merlin then had to read the rules for the Hunger Games; as punishment for said rebellion, each district must choose one boy and one girl between ages twelve and eighteen to compete in a grand outdoor arena that could hold just about anything the Capitol's imaginative little minds could come up with. Over a few weeks, the competitors, called tributes, must fight one another to the death. Only the last tribute standing, the "victor," was allowed to return home. Granted, said victor would be put through the emotional trauma of slaughtering twenty-three other people their own age just to survive, but they could go home nonetheless.

Ariel scowled throughout the entire speech. The fact that the Capitol took mere children and forced them to murder each other for entertainment made her want to puke. The only reason for the Hunger Games was for the sake of dominance and power, to rub it in the districts' faces just how much better it was to be in the Capitol and how much it sucked to be them. Growing up, Ariel had always dreamed of seeing the outside world and going on some kind of adventure, but this was just too much. It was pure evil; nothing more, nothing less. And there was no sign of these people ever receiving any sort of comeuppance. Oh, how she wished she had the power to stop them, but common sense told her that nothing of the sort would happen for a long, long time.

At last, Merlin introduced Ursula. With an unsettling chuckle, she strutted up to the microphone in her giant black and white dress. Tapping on the microphone twice just to make sure her voice would be heard by all, she began her speech in a sultry voice. "Good afternoon, my dear sweet children. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor. I'm quite confident you are all just itching to find out who shall be the poor, unfortunate souls to be sent off to certain death, so let us not waste any time, shall we?"

"Well, she certainly isn't one to mince words," Eric thought to himself. He could tell Ursula was most likely well aware how much the population of District 4 disliked her. He could also tell she truly did not have a single rat's bottom to give about that. In fact, she probably enjoyed seeing everyone glare at her with hate-filled eyes. I most likely amused her. However, his little train of thought was interrupted by the vile sound of her voice again. "Ladies first!" Ursula trotted over to the table where the glass balls rested, and dipped her hand in the one with the girls' names. As she kept that sickening grin of hers glued to her face, Eric's heart skipped a beat when he heard the unfortunate young lady's name announced to the world. It was Ariel.

Within moments, the mortified, screaming voices of Ariel's sisters echoed through the air. However, Ariel herself did not look fazed in the least. The red-haired beauty simply marched her way through the crowd and onto the stage without so much as flinching. All the while, her sisters sobbed painfully loudly in the background. Eric couldn't bring himself to look in their direction, for it was heart wrenching enough just hearing them. He could only imagine the despair and sorrow that plagued their eyes at this very moment, and was almost certain that if any of them were still eighteen or younger, they would have volunteered in a heartbeat. Anything to protect their baby sister, after all. But now, they were powerless, and had no other choice but to watch her proceed to the stage. Eric hadn't even enough time to process the fact that his beloved had just been selected to join the Hunger Games when he heard the boy's name announced. When he heard the name, he nearly had a heart attack.

**A/N: Aaaaaand that's chapter one! Chapter two is almost certainly going to come soon. Actually, I didn't want to end it there, but I thought it was beginning to get a little long. Anyway, here are my two main concerns: Is this story decently written, and is everyone in-character? If any of you wish to address these two questions, please do so! I welcome constructive criticism, and I hope to improve on this however I can. Until next time!**


	2. The Reaping: Part 2

**A/N: And here's Chapter 2. I wanted to upload this one really quickly, since I left Chapter 1 in a cliffhanger. Also, I might want to clear something up ahead of time: I know Mushu's a dragon. However, Panem is supposed to be the grim future of our world, and in our world, dragons don't exist. So, to make sense in the context of the real world, so to speak, I made Mushu a red-haired human in this fic. I know, I don't really like doing stuff like that. In any other Disney fanfiction, I would've kept it like so. Another thing you might want to know about Snow White, Belle, and Cinderella's princes: I was looking for names for Snow White and Cinderella's princes, and I found out that Disney France called Snow White's prince "Florian," and Cinderella's prince "Henry." Thus, I'm using those names for them. And finally, the Beast's name really and truly is Adam. That's about it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_District 4_

The boy tribute's name was Eric, which filled him with shock. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Looking around at his peers, like a deer in headlights, Eric slowly made his way through the crowd and climbed steadily onto the stage. He locked eyes with Ariel, who gazed at him with worry and concern. She clearly was not worried about herself, but she was terrified for him, and vice versa. Eric's family was not nearly as vocal as Ariel's was, but as he turned to face the crowd, he could see the indescribably pained looks on their faces. And so he stood, silent, trying desperately to look emotionless, yet the immense shock of the moment clearly plastered all over his face. Still, he had to keep his composure. As long as Ariel would make it out alright, he would remain happy.

Ursula took this time to ask for volunteers. Unsurprisingly, no one stepped forward. Ariel had five sisters, true, but they were all too old to participate now. If Ariel had been picked last year, it was almost certain that Alana, the second youngest, would have stepped forward in a heartbeat. However, she was nineteen years old now and thus was a year too old to volunteer for her beloved sister.

As Merlin finished the dreary Treaty of Treason, he motioned for the young couple to shake hands. Hesitating at first, the two clasped each other's hands tightly while gazing into each other's eyes with love, concern, and uncertainty of the future. They both knew all too well that they were in for several weeks of absolute hell.

_District 2_

As Fa Mulan stood there amongst the eighteen-year-olds, she waited expectantly for District 2's escort to announce the female tribute's name. Granted, she was going to volunteer anyway, but she was curious to see whether her own name would be called or not. To be completely honest, Mulan was still feeling quite uneasy about the idea of killing other people for entertainment purposes. In fact, she found the whole concept of the Hunger Games sickening. However, it was considered a great honor in her district to participate. The residents here applauded their tributes and treated them like gallant heroes, training them to fight and kill from terribly young ages. This was the upbringing Mulan had. Yet, deep down, she was still a human being and knew that this game was wrong.

Her train of thought was cut short when the girl's name was finally announced. Goodness, that concert really took his sweet time. It was not Mulan. In fact, Mulan did not even recognize her name. She observed the petite little girl climb up the stage with a nervous look on her face. Goodness, this girl couldn't be a day over thirteen. Short stature, skinny body, soft eyes, frail and sickly complexion, and she carried herself so… delicately. As if she could be tipped over and shattered into a million pieces with a gust of wind. Did this little thing seriously come from the same district as her? A district that raised most of its children to kill? Mulan could not believe her eyes.

And then, the District 2 escort asked for volunteers. As everyone turned to face her, Mulan suddenly froze for a moment. At that moment, she knew she had no desire to partake in this game. It was wrong. It was barbaric. It was despicable. The Capitol leaders were inhuman monsters for forcing the district children to kill each other for "fun." Mulan was not afraid of the games in the least, it was simply a matter of morality that made her think of these things. Of course, all this had not truly dawned on her until it was time for her to volunteer herself. But at the same time, she could not let that poor girl go into the arena when everyone was counting on her to volunteer.

"Well? I'm waiting! Do we have any volunteers at all?" The shrill, irritating voice of the escort shrieked again. Good God, this man was irritating. Mulan never did like this man, Chi Fu. Purple suit, overly tall hat, and a perpetual frown on his already quite ugly face. Anyone who attempted to greet him in a friendly manner would always be met with a disapproving scowl. He was quite obviously extremely confident in himself, and always – I mean ALWAYS – had his nose up in the air. It was especially unpleasant when he started to get impatient, like he was right now. But again, Mulan did not wish to be used as a killing machine for entertainment purposes. Then, she heard it…

"Dishonor! Dishonor on your WHOLE family! Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!" Yes, Mushu's obnoxious voice rang in her head yet again. A few days back, when the two were talking about Mulan volunteering for the Hunger Games this year, she was stupid enough to voice a little bit of uncertainty regarding the whole ordeal. Since it is SUCH a great honor to fight in the games in District 2, and backing out is considered cowardice, Mushu wouldn't let her hear the end of it until Mulan finally had to take it back. It was somewhere during Mushu's long rant in response to Mulan's statement that he spewed out the line about her family and her cow. That one little line had stuck inside her head ever since, and had just now found its way back.

Mulan could see literally every single other teenager there staring at her, expecting her to volunteer. Not too far away, stood a certain red-haired boy glaring daggers at her. Yep, that was Mushu. Oh God, here it came again; "Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!" It rang louder and louder in her head by the second. Over and over again. Ugh, make it stop…

"Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!

"Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dishonor on your cow!"

"Dis-"

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" Finally, she did it. At that moment, her head cleared up. No more obnoxious voices in her head referring to her horse as a damn cow. All her inhibitions suddenly gone after finally bucking down and doing it, Mulan fearlessly marched through the crowd and onto that stage to meet Chi Fu, who looked severely irritated.

"Well young lady, it certainly took you long enough," he huffed. Without another word, Chi Fu reached into the glass ball containing the boys' names. Sending another glare at the female volunteer, he then proceeded to speak; "Our male tribute's name is… Li Shang!" Ah, perfect. Shang was going to volunteer this year anyway. Fortunately for him, Shang did not have to debate whether to volunteer or not like Mulan did. Of course, he probably wouldn't have hesitated early as much, as he was far more hardened than her. Even as he walked across the stage to stand next to Chi Fu, his eyes had nary a hint of fear or hesitation in them. Rather, he looked confident and dignified. One could tell he actually did feel honored to be selected for the games, as was typical for this district.

Chi Fu, having gotten over his slight annoyance with Mulan, now seemed quite pleased with his tributes. And why shouldn't he be? Two strong, athletic young warriors trained to kill since childhood were exactly what was expected from District 2. Observing, Mulan didn't even think he looked this pleased with last year's tributes. With his face beaming with pride, Chi Fu spoke his closing lines: "Now citizens, let us give a round of applause for our tributes; Fa Mulan and Li Shang!" As the entire audience clapped, Shang and Mulan grabbed each other's hands and triumphantly raised them in the air, confidently showing the world that they were ready to take on the games. Despite her outward confidence, however, Mulan still felt a sense of unease. Was she truly okay with killing another person?

_District 11_

Pocahontas stood on the stage, head bowed and eyes closed. She had just been selected as her district's female tribute, and she wouldn't dare show a hint of fear to her people. While she did feel some relief in not seeing any of her loved ones chosen, she couldn't help but feel terrified of participating herself. She was a pacifist, she loathed violence of any kind. How in the world was she to get by in the games? Nonetheless, she was not going to allow her district to see any signs of weakness in her. So she simply stood there, completely still. Silent. Waiting for her male companion's name to be announced…

"John Smith!"

Pocahontas could not help but look up and gasp in horror. Oh no, not John. He was such a good man, why did he of all people have to be picked? Trying still to keep her cool, she watched as John came up onto the stage beside her. As she observed him, she noticed that he actually didn't look afraid in the least bit. Granted, he didn't look happy either, but it was clear that he was unafraid I the face of death. He seemed more… angry than anything. Pocahontas was quite fond of John, and now that she thought of it, the two of them had never actually discussed the topic of the Hunger Games. They had always talked of more pleasant subjects, which made it all the more heartbreaking for her that he was selected this year. Nonetheless, they were going to have to talk about the events to come now, and she wished to know what was on his mind during these awful times. She made a mental note to have a heart-to-heart talk with him later. Oh, if only this were a dream…

_District 5_

Hercules stood there on the stage, speechless and mortified. Not so much because he was going into the Hunger Games, but rather because his beloved Megara was. He could also see the distraught look on Megara's face. He knew exactly why: he had volunteered as tribute even though she begged him every single year not to. But Hercules couldn't help it. He was eighteen this year. Thus, this was the last year he would be able to do anything. Megara knew exactly how much it pained him to see others go to their deaths every single year. The two of them talked whole-heartedly about this so very many times. As much as she insisted that Hercules not volunteer, she knew deep down that he most likely would have anyway. And when she herself was selected, all bets were basically off. As much pain as it caused her, she was not in the least bit surprised when he raised his hand to volunteer. Giving her beloved Wonder Boy a sad but reassuring smile, Megara swore to herself that she would protect him at all costs.

It was a miserable day for all in Panem, at least for those living in the districts. The people of the Capitol, however, were having a ball. As they watched their sick television show, Capitol families everywhere laughed and made bets as to who among the terrified, helpless children would be chosen to be sent to their deaths and who among the braver faces would volunteer. When each selection was made, loud uproarious laughter could be heard from miles away, and there was enormous cheering at the final group of tributes.

From District 1, a Career district, Aladdin and Jasmine both volunteered in place of other children. These two strong, confident Careers had been trained to kill since a young age just like Mulan and Shang, and had both eagerly agreed beforehand to volunteer as tributes this year. From District 3 were Milo Thatch and Kidagakash Nedakh, otherwise known as "Kida." Milo had never been a fighter, instead contributing to his district using his intellect and worldly knowledge. As loved respected as he was within the technology district, he was quite visibly nervous and it was agreed by most that he barely stood a chance. His fiancée, Kida, was not as tech-savvy. However, she was a strong fighter and had nary a hint of fear in her eyes. Unfortunately, her strength was not equal to that of the tributes.

From District 6 were the shocked and overwhelmed Naveen, who had been extremely carefree until being chosen, and his far more straight-laced lady friend, Tiana. From District 7, Tarzan and Jane. Like Kida, Tarzan was strong and capable, but was not quite on the level of the Careers, while poor Jane was clearly terrified beyond belief. From District 8 were two of the most hopeless tributes of the bunch: Cinderella, who had to be dragged onto the stage by her stepsisters while kicking and screaming in terror, and her love-struck boyfriend Henry, who simply volunteered out of overprotectiveness for her, not because he had any survival skills whatsoever. Together, the poor couple looked like a pair of deer in headlights.

From District 9 were the enraged Adam and the quiet, intellectual Belle. Adam was clearly angry to the point of almost being in over his head, while Belle, while undeniably intelligent and sensible, was visibly nervous and clearly was not a survivalist. District 10 had the pitiful, helpless Aurora and her slightly more capable boyfriend, Phillip. Aurora was sobbing uncontrollably from the moment she was chosen till she was led offstage when the reaping was done, with Phillip calmly embracing her the entire time. And finally, District 12 had yet another completely hopeless couple in Florian and Snow White. Florian, overcome with shock and fear, quite literally looked as if he was about to puke, while a similarly petrified Snow White looked even paler than usual. With her eyes wide open and both hands clasped over her mouth, many Capitol members betted that she, Aurora and Cinderella would be the first ones to go.

With that, the 36th Annual Hunger Games was ready to begin. Each pair of tributes was shipped off to the Capitol to train and prepare for what was going to be an absolute nightmare. When all was said and done, and each pair of tributes was selected, their escorts said the exact same thing; the one iconic line that all Capitol members waited for and all the tributes dreaded. The one line that perfectly summarized the fickle, disturbingly lighthearted manner with which the Capitol treated the televised massacre:

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

**A/N: WOOT! Chapter 2 is finished! Sorry nothing really uneventful happened in the first two chapters. The next chapter or so will focus on training, interviews, skill demonstrations, and tributes forming alliances. That might take about… 3 chapters or so? Immediately after all that, the fun stuff will begin!**


End file.
